


sail them home with acquiesce

by pennem



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Incest, Then fluff, and brotherly love, i dont know how to write anything else, noel whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennem/pseuds/pennem
Summary: There's a fight during the recording sessions for Heathen Chemistry, and some glass accidentally thrown in makes for a bloody mess.
Relationships: Liam Gallagher & Noel Gallagher
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	sail them home with acquiesce

In Liam's defense, Noel _had_ been acting like a real ass. They’re halfway through recording the new album, and his brother has been getting on _everyone’s_ nerves.

Overall, things were going pretty good. The band lineup changing had been a little stressful at first, but they’ve all really found their groove. They’re all contributing to writing songs, which Noel had been surprisingly agreeable about, and they all seem to enjoy being in the studio recording a lot more than they had expected.

But this past week, Noel’s been on a warpath. He’s struggling with the arrangements to the songs they’ve been working on, struggling to get them to sound exactly the way he wants them to, the giant control freak. He has _the_ vision for his songs, he always claims, and god help you if you stand in the way of that. Ironically, that includes himself, and Noel will beat himself up just as much and more than he would anyone else in the band if he gets in the way of his idea of perfection.

They’d been building up to a blowout. All it had taken was one badly placed jibe at his brother, which he really should have known was a bad idea, but when had he really been able to help himself?

Immediately, they'd been at each other’s throats, and the rest of the band had scurried out the minute the barbs had turned deep. They knew better than to get involved with the two of them.

They sneer and snarl and yell, ripping into each other on lack of talent, shitty work ethic, teetotal superiority, control freak tendencies, the usual good stuff. This devolves into grappling, which if Liam is honest, is always fun. Noel can always match his temper, but he hates physical violence and can never match Liam in a fight. It ends up with Noel in a headlock, Liam thoroughly enjoying himself as Noel struggles; his brother needs to work out some frustration anyway. Noel spits out a bunch of insults as he tries to break free, and Liam fires some right back, but makes the mistake of mentioning Noel's divorce.

He can’t even remember what he’d said the next second, but Noel kicks out and struggles like a man possessed, startling Liam into loosening his grip.

When he’s free, Noels face twists into something ugly, like it always does when he’s about to unleash his massive cruel streak. He pushes Liam away, _hard_ , and points an angry finger into his face.

“If you don’t fucking want to be in my band so badly, why don’t you fucking go back to Manchester and spend your life like the drugged out fucking hooligan you’ve always wanted to be, yeah?”

Liam slaps his finger out of his face. “It’s not _your_ fucking band.”

“It’s fucking _nothing_ without me, you cunt, and you know it.” He spits out, gesturing wildly. “We _all_ fucking know it.”

“You got a real complex there if you think you’re anything without me singing your songs, mate.”

Noel laughs in his face, and its cruel and slightly hysterical. “Don’t make me laugh, Liam. That's fucking rich. I can go get any coked out loser from out on the street and they’ll _still_ fucking sound better than you do lately.”

It’s as low a blow as it can get, because he’s been struggling with his voice, but he’s been trying, _really_ trying, to take care of it, and Noel knows it. The hurt must show on his face faster than he can hide it, because the anger on Noel's face fades slightly and he blinks at him, like he’s rewinding what he’s said in his head all of a sudden.

Liam doesn’t give him a chance to do anything else. He lets out an unhinged roar and lunges, taking a lot of perverse pleasure in the way Noels eyes widen comically right as Liam tackles him around the waist.

They roll around, both of them landing a few lucky punches. Liam, furious and hurt, doesn’t hold anything back now, and throws out a few more choice words about Noels ex-wife, and then Noel fights back in earnest too. Noel smacks him in the nose hard enough to make it bleed, and Liam punches him back hard enough to give him a black eye. 

Somewhere in the rage and swearing and pandemonium, Noel kicks Liam in the stomach and and tries to get out from under him, grabbing onto the edge of a table and half pulling himself up when Liam doubles over. Liam, riding his rage like he always does, launches himself at his brother. The table legs give out under their combined weight and everything falls to the floor along with them with a giant crash. Liam’s blind to it all, ignoring Noels startled cry and the sound of shattering glass and the sheets of paper flying all around them, too focused on trying to wring his brothers fucking neck.

He grabs onto Noel and flips him around, catching shirt and jacket and probably a fair bit of skin, but catches sight of the absolute agony on his face a second before his brother pushes him off.

“Fuck, stop, my hand!”

Liam falls back, startled out of his rage before it registers in very quick succession, broken glass and Noels gone white, face set in a pained grimace and breathing hard, right hand covering his left as he curls in on himself and oh shit there’s a lot of blood leaking through those fingers.

He blinks, breathing just as hard at his brother, heart beating even faster at the sight. “Shit. Oh shit, what the fuck?”

Noel lets out a stream of fucks through gritted teeth, face half buried in the carpet and all Liam can do for a second is look horrified at the blood dripping onto the floor. He snaps himself out of it and crawls closer on his knees, registering the afternoon light reflecting on the bits of glass surrounding them.

“Shit. Did the glass get you?” Even as he says it, he spots a bloody shard dangerously close to his brothers head, which he hastily tosses away before it can cut him.

Noel squints his eyes open and glares bloody murder at him, teeth bared in both contempt and pain. “What do you fucking think??”

Liam ignores him, already taking off his scarf. He’s gotten in enough fights to know the drill, direct pressure, but he’s never seen anything bleed this much, not even head wounds. He reaches for the injured hand and Noel furiously snatches it away, wincing at the pain the movement causes.

“Let me see, you idiot, you have to stop the bleeding.”

“Fucking, don’t fucking touch me, you prick.” His brother bites out, elbowing him away awkwardly and struggling into a sitting position and cradling his hands in his lap with a hiss. “Fuck. Go get the medic.”

“You have to put direct pressure first, stop being..”

“What would you fucking know?? Don’t…” Liam grabs his wrist, trying his hardest not to hurt Noel further but his idiot brother continues to struggle. Liam doesn’t think he’s realized just how much he’s bleeding. “Liam, I’m gonna beat your head in, get the goddamn medic so they can _fix_ what you’ve done to me hand, you dickhead.”

“You were the one being a dickhead, you dickhead.” They continue to struggle, Liam finally firmly grabbing bloody Noels wrist and trying to pry the hands loose, gentleness be damned. There’s enough blood all over his brothers hands and wrists and the floor that its making Liam shaky just looking at it. “You’re bleeding like _crazy_ , you idiot, we need to stop it…”

He finally manages to get the hand loose then and all arguing stops as they both finally get a look at the injury. There’s a jagged gash all the way across Noels palm, and its _deep_. Liam has the nauseating thought that he could probably sink a whole coin in there. Now that the pressure is off, it immediately starts oozing blood even faster, staining the black of Noels jacket and making it look disturbingly red tinted. In the stunned silence, blood slides off Noels fingers and palm and hits the carpet with an audible drip, both their hands completely covered in the violent red at this point.

It’s probably only uncovered for two seconds, but when Liam’s horrified eyes flick up to Noel's face, he finds his brother even paler than before and staring at his hand like it’s some sort of foreign animal, more unsettled than Liam’s ever seen him. Shaking himself out of it, he takes the bleeding hand, bundles his scarf up in the other and presses it down on the oozing cut as hard as he can.

That seems to snap Noel out of it as he cries out, instinctively trying to struggle away for a second before he lets out a stream of curses, gritting his teeth so hard Liam can swear he hears them crack. Liam holds firm, palm pressing down over the scarf as hard as he can, ignoring how hard Noel is squeezing his forearm.

The dilemma of getting someone in to help is solved when Gem peeks his head in warily, clearly having expected them to be done fighting by now. He freezes at the sight, blood splattered all over and Noel still swearing up a storm as he tries not to scream, both of them poised like they're in the middle of some bizarre, bloody handshake.

“Get the fucking medic in here, Gem.” Liam barks out.

“What the fuck?”

“Now, Gem! There’s a lot of blood.” There really is, and Liam’s trying really hard not to freak out. His scarf is already soaked through and it feels sopping wet against his hands, and it’s only been a few seconds. Can you bleed out by cutting your hand? Liam doesn’t know anything about arteries and all that garbage to know.

Gem does go, and Liam realizes that Noel's gone quiet. He turns back to see his brother looking sightlessly somewhere around Liam’s shoulder, breathing shaky and eyes unfocused, face a disturbing shade of grey.

“Noel?”

There’s a hard swallow, and another, eyes clenching shut again. There’s a deep breath, and then another, fighting off what Liam assumes is nausea. It’s a mirrored feeling, the sheer ugliness of the whole thing and the blood staining all over enough to make his own stomach turn. Both their adrenaline is wearing off and Noel looks like he’s about to pass out any second, palming his eyes and breathing heavily through his nose.

“Noel? Don’t you faint, Gems getting someone to patch this up.” Noel nods shakily, fingers twitching against his eyes.

“'M not gonna faint.” He mumbles out, like he’s trying to convince himself too. 

“Yeah? Look like you're about to swoon, Noely.”

The old nickname just slips out as he tries to lighten the mood, working to keep the scarf firmly pressed down, trying to ignore the bloody handprint on his jacket where Noel had grabbed him. It seems to work, because Noel huffs out something between a chuckle and a scoff.

They sit in silence for a minute, Noel taking deep breaths and keeping his eyes buried in his hand. Liam’s own heart is calming down now that it looks like the direct pressure is working, and his brother doesn’t look so green around the gills anymore.

Gem bursts in with the medic then, some lady Liam’s never seen before, and she pushes him to the side and takes over. Noel blinks his eyes open at the sudden change and looks at her a little dazedly as she starts firing off questions. There's blood smeared all over his face from his hand.

He answers them mostly fine, and the rapid fire about any confusion or fainting comes to Liam too. She seems pleased with all the answers, though, and slowly peels away the scarf. It still looks ugly, and Noel very pointedly looks away, swallowing, but it doesn’t seem to be oozing blood as fast as it was.

The second she mentions the ER, Noels attention snaps back.

“No. No hospital.”

“It’s a deep cut, Mr. Gallagher, it’ll need stitches.”

“Do them here, then.”

“You really should get this checked out.”

They go back and forth on the whole thing, Liam piping in to try and convince Noel but he already knows this is a fight they’re not going to win. The media frenzy that erupted last time Noel had to go to the ER was manic, and even Liam can understand why Noel wouldn’t want to be subjected to that again over a cut hand.

She caves in in the end, already sensing that she’s not going to win. Noel promises to get in to see his regular doctor the next morning so he can run all the tests he wants, and she rolls her eyes and acquiesces, telling him she’ll get another doctor called in to do his stitches.

For someone who was just about to pass out, Noel sure can still argue. 

She squeezes the injured hand all over and makes Noel stretch his fingers out to make sure there’s no numbness. He manages to do it, but the whimpered out “fuck” as he does has Liam’s stomach turning again. She seems pleased, though, and tells him to take a minute before he tries to stand, and gets to work cleaning up the unbroken table in the room. 

* * *

The doctor that they’ve called is older and very matronly, and something about her presence immediately puts Liam at ease when she arrives a little while later. She takes a very no-nonsense look at the mess around them and tuts, before turning her eyes on them. 

Noel has his face buried in his good arm, slumped over on the only unbroken table in the room. His other arm is stretched out on said table, hand in front of Liam, who's been applying pressure. He'd gone grey again as soon as he'd stood up with Liam's help, and had to take a good minute bent over, trying not to puke. The medic, christ Liam can't even remember her name, had just reassured them it was the blood loss and that he would feel better once he had some water in him.

The doctor gives Liam a meaningful look and he quickly vacates his chair.

Noel doesn't notice she's even in the room until she's sitting right in front of him, and only then does he lift his face, eyes blearily taking in the new person in the room, managing a polite nod. 

She takes his chin, shining a penlight into his eyes and tilting his head side to side. Liam has to bite down a smirk at the naked irritation on his brothers face at the manhandling. 

"Shelly tells me this cut on your hand and blood loss are the only concerns. Are you hurt anywhere else?" She's uncovering the wound and eyeing the smears of blood on his face. Noel shakes his head, mumbling out a "no" and self consciously swiping at his face.

The bleeding’s slowed down considerably, and she examines it critically. 

"You really should go to the emergency room for this, but I understand your concern. Are you lightheaded at all? Did you drink all of this?" She nods at the glass of water Noel had mostly managed to drink.

"Mmm hmm. A little bit."

She turns sharp eyes on Gem, who twitches a little bit. "Go get a Gatorade, or an energy drink of some kind." He nods and runs off, looking glad to have something to do. 

Liam understands why she had him leave when she starts cleaning the wound, to spare Noel an audience. She warns him that its going to hurt, but it still seems to take him by surprise. The keening noise he makes is something Liams never heard from his brothers mouth, and then Noel's swearing bloody murder again, shaking hand digging hard into his brow, teeth gritted. She murmurs reassurances but holds firm, and Liam’s own fists clench uncomfortably as he watches her get into the wound. He can't really help himself, and ends up crouching next to his brother, reassuring hand on his trembling shoulder. 

Picking stray pieces of glass out of the cut is the worst, and Noel's wiping away tears by the end of it, breath coming out hitched and wet. Part of Liam wants to leave so he doesn't have to witness this, but the other part of him wins out, the one that needs to stay, even though he can't really do anything but feel Noel shake under his hand and try to ignore the small bloody bits of glass she's put on a napkin.

Gem comes back right when Noel's gotten himself under some semblance of control, three bottles of energy drinks in his hand. Liam has to marvel at the timing, but the doctor seems unsurprised, giving him a dismissive nod as she cracks one open. Gems eyes are fixed on the open wound in front of him, and Liam clears his throat and looks meaningfully at the door and back at Gem, hoping he gets the hint. 

He does, and nods hastily and leaves. Liam looks back to see Noel gingerly sipping the garish colored liquid under the watchful eye of the doctor, his face tight and pale. 

"Take a minute, lad, and we'll do the stitches. You're sure you don't want them done at the ER? They'll have stronger drugs."

Liam suddenly clues in on the fact that she looks a lot like their mam. Noel hesitates for a second, then resolutely shakes his head.

"No. Just do them." He croaks out, voice shot to bits, rubbing away lingering tears from wet lashes.

Liam rolls his eyes, but isn't really surprised. She doesn't seem surprised either, just nudges him to take more sips, which Noel obediently does.

The second she takes out two syringes, Noel blows out an uncomfortable breath and puts his forehead in his palm again, resolutely keeping his eyes closed. She explains that they'll burn before they kick in, and he just nods his understanding.

Noel scrunches his eyes and turns his head away as soon as the first shot goes in, blowing out a breath, and another and another. He's shaking again. She's poised to inject the other one when she notices too, frowning.

“You need to try to hold your hand steady.” Noel at any other time would have ten scathing remarks to that, all _you get a fucking q-tip shoved into your open flesh and see how steady you get,_ or _you get glass tweezed out of your hand and come back to me;_ but right now, pale and shaky, he just blinks his eyes open, brows furrowing as he clearly tries his hardest, but his hand continues to shake. Something very hollow in Liam’s chest absolutely aches at the sight, and he goes and pulls up a chair and sits right between the two.

He gently takes Noels wrist with both hands and holds it steady. He can feel his brothers eyes on him, but Liam just looks at the medic expectantly, and she nods approvingly and gets to work.

“One more. I know it burns, but it’ll stop.”

Noel twitches and hisses as the other shot goes in, forehead back in his hand and face set in a grimace as he breathes through the pain. Liam has to hold the wrist a little firmer as it starts shaking a little more and sends a slightly worried look to the medic, who smiles reassuringly at him.

“It’ll take all the pain away in a second, I promise.”

She doesn't lie. Noels whole body relaxes in a minute, but he keeps his eyes closed and forehead propped in his palm.

It’s gruesome to watch the stitches, but strangely fascinating to the point that Liam watches the whole thing. She asks a couple of time if he feels any pain, and Noel just shakes his head, not moving.

Halfway through, Noel opens his eyes, dully watching her close the wound that is thankfully not oozing blood anymore. He's still a very unhealthy shade of white, eyes tired and red.

Eventually, the stitches finished, there’s gauze wrapped from his wrist to the middle of his fingers, hiding the whole ugly mess. She rattles off instructions about pain pills and not getting the hand wet and Noel looks at her, expressionless, nodding at all the right places, and Liam can just tell he's not retaining any of it. He keeps holding his brothers arm even though he could probably let go, when she tells him how long he needs to avoid any overuse.

“Wait, how long?” Noel's finally lifting his head from his palm, looking at her like she’s grown two heads.

“ _Two weeks_. Nothing strenuous.” She says firmly, looking very much like she has no patience for their rock star antics, making Liam wonder how often she gets called in for things like this.

“I can’t play guitar? You can’t be serious, we’re in the middle of an album.” Liam’s not sure how he thought that was going to work anyway when he can’t move his bandaged fingers, but keeps quiet to avoid death.

“You needed 8 stitches, Mr. Gallagher. Any deeper and you could have had tendon damage, which I am not counting out until you get in to see your regular doctor tomorrow. Count yourself lucky and do not mess with that wound.”

That seems to shut Noel up and he sets his jaw, clearly annoyed as he looks down at his bandaged hand. Then he sighs, rubbing at his eye with his good hand.

“Fine. Two weeks.”

She nods, clearly surprised he’s backed down. Their reputation clearly does precede them, because she seems even more startled when Liam gets up to walk her out, thanking her with a smile. Even Noel mumbles out a quick thank you.

When the door shuts behind her, Noels cradling his bandaged hand in his lap, dully looking at the mess of blood and paper and broken glass on the floor behind him. Liam follows his gaze and has to swallow at the many splatters and splotches staining the carpet, only just noticing the amps they'd also managed to knock over. 

They look back at each other at the same time. “Christ Liam. Next time I’m being a cunt, just knock me out and call it a day, yeah?”

Just like that, Liam knows he’s forgiven. They’re frustrated and tired, but there’s no heat behind the words. Noel acknowledging he was being a cunt to begin with is as much of an apology as he’s ever going to get, and Liam not being a cunt for the next few days is as much of an apology as Noels ever going to get.

“I’ll piss on your guitar next time.”

Noel looks so scandalized it makes Liam chuckle. “I would rather you just brain me with the glass whatever next time.”

That takes his smile away but Noel doesn’t seem to notice, shakily getting to his feet and swaying a little bit, palm over his eyes as soon as he’s up.

“Fuck me.”

“'Ere, drink some more of this before you get up.” Liam nudges him back into the chair and makes him drink a few more sips of the energy drink.

Noel does, looking over at his discarded guitar in the corner and blowing out an unhappy breath through his teeth. “We can’t take two weeks off.”

Liam rolls his eyes so hard he's surprised they don't get stuck. Of course, that's all he's still thinking about. “ _We_ don’t have to, _you_ do, and you bloody will."

"But we're already behind."

"Eeyare, you just bled all over the studio. The album can fuckin wait, you're going home."

“I can still write and do the mixing you know.” Noel says stubbornly, looking increasingly frustrated. Liam takes it as a good sign that his brother feels well enough to argue.

“Come back tomorrow and we can figure it out. Right now, you're bloody going home, you look like you're about to drop dead.”

Another unhappy huff, but his brother listens in the end, letting their driver take him home when he can stand up without getting dizzy.

* * *

One could argue that Liam had _accidentally_ held onto the prescription. There had been a lot going on, there were scattered blood stains all over him, and he’d had to make sure Noel was okay, so he had just shoved into his pocket and forgotten about it until later.

These would all be lies, of course.

Solid excuse to drop in and check on his brother in hand, Liam strolls quietly into Noels house through the back door, expecting him to be asleep but finding him standing in the kitchen. He’s clearly just woken up, because his cropped hair is sticking up in all directions, his t-shirt is rumpled and he’s rubbing his red eyes sleepily as he blinks at Liam in confusion.

“What’re you doing here?” 

Liam flushes, feeling caught out, glad he's wearing his sunglasses. He casually holds up the bag of pain meds and the takeout he'd picked up. “You forgot your prescription.”

Noel lets out a soft “oh” before there’s a jaw cracking yawn.

“Didn’t know I needed one.” He mumbles out, dropping into the closest bar stool in his weirdly neat kitchen. Liam has to smirk, tired mumbly Noel is one of his favorites.

“You could see the bones of yer hand and didn’t think it would hurt later?” 

Noel rubs at his temples as Liam finds a glass. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Am not. You owe me a new scarf, mate.” Liam fires back, the picture of maturity, putting the water in front of him. “Did you drink any water?”

“Uh. No.” Liam can tell there's a headache brewing behind those furry brows. "You owe me a new jacket then."

Liam tuts, wondering if this is how Noel feels when Liam gets reckless. “You’re dehydrated, you twat. Drink it. Did you not listen to what she said?”

“Who said?” His brother says in between a yawn, but still takes a dutiful sip.

“The…the doctor, medic lady.”

“No.” Noel says distractedly, eyes blinking closed. “Did you?”

Liam shakes out some two pills and hands them to his brother, scoffing, nudging him when he doesn’t open his eyes to see.

“You clearly weren’t so yeah, had to didn’t I?”

“Was too busy bleeding out, wasn’t I?” Noel snarks, taking the pills but leaving them on the counter, propping his temples up in his good hand and sleepily closing his eyes again. Liam stiffens a little at that.

“That’s not funny.”

There’s a non-commital hum from his brother. “Kinda is.”

It’s really not, but Noel is so out of it Liam can’t really fault him. He finds himself peeking at the bandaged hand, reassuring himself that there's no red to the white. “Eat the damn pills.”

Noel tears his eyes open and takes the pill bottle from Liam, squinting at the tiny name, even though its barely dark outside and there’s plenty of light. He lets out an annoyed sigh.

“I’ve taken these before, they mess me right up.”

Liam rolls his eyes and drops into the bar stool next to Noel. Noel dejectedly reads the label for a second before tossing them carelessly on the counter.

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week, it’ll do you some good then.”

His brother sends him an irritated look, although its not nearly as effective with how strung out he looks. “I’ve been busy. You know, writing our album and that.”

“Bull. We're all writing too. You’re just stressing yourself out again.” He knows he’s right. His brother right now is the picture of someone who’s overworked himself to the point of breaking the second something challenging has presented itself. It’s what Noel always does when things get rough, he throws himself into the band and his music with every spare ounce of energy until he’s left hung out to dry, and they both end up in some kind of brawl, extended or brief.

“Christ, one of us has to be serious, eh?” Noel snaps.

There’s a pause, and Noel rubs at his eye and looks away, brief irritation gone as quick as it came. He really does look dead on his feet. “Shit. Ignore that last one.”

Liam blinks, feeling something warm unexpectedly spread in his chest. He gently kicks at his leg under the counter.

“Take the damn pills, and then you’re eating some of this, and going to sleep, ye bellend. You got someone to take you to the doc tomorrow?”

Noel makes a face at the mention of food that Liam starts to unpack. "Sara gets back tomorrow morning."

He reaches to take the glass with his bad hand, the moron, and immediately withdraws with a groan. “Ugh, okay that does sting a little.” He downs the pills, gingerly resting his hand on the counter, propping his head up on his good one again.

They sit in comfortable silence and eat, waiting for the pills to kick in. Liam has to bully Noel into eating something, and all he manages is a few spoons of rice before he pushes it away. Better than nothing, Liam concludes, and makes his yawning brother at least finish the still half full glass of water.

It’s quite amusing, the way Noels fingers go limper as the pills start to work, and his wrist and head droop closer and closer to the counter. But the pained dip in his eyebrow and the hard set in his jaw fades along with him, which fills Liam with more relief than he wants to think about.

When Noel seems like he's on the brink of starting to snore, Liam nudges him, gently. “Come on, you should be in bed.”

There’s a very whiny whine, head finally sinking to the counter.

“You can’t sleep in the kitchen, you nut.”

Noel mumbles something nonsensical that Liam interprets as "can too", so he nudges him even harder.

“Come on, man, I’m not bloody carrying you.”

There's another whine, but his brother acquiesces, eyes barely open and grumbling about being bullied as he stands.

Liam leads Noel to the stairs, and his brother just shuffles slowly along, oddly compliant. Liam could probably lead him anywhere right now and he would follow. It’s something he would exploit if Noel didn’t look so pathetic, all red eyes and wrung out.

When they pass the living room, Noel makes a beeline for the couch.

“Wait, no.” Liam starts, but his brothers already there and collapsing face first into the cushion, eyes immediately closed and letting his bandaged hand hang off to the side. “You should be in bed, you nutter.”

“This’s fine.” There’s another huge yawn.

“Noel, come on.” There’s no response other than a very non-committal hmm. “You gonna make me carry you?”

There’s a twitch of his hand that Liam assumes was meant to be waving him away. He rolls his eyes, crouching down and shaking the pills he’s still holding obnoxiously next to his brothers ears, who groans and sinks deeper into the cushion.

“You need to take these again in six hours, are you gonna remember?”

“Hmm, yeah. I got it.”

Liam doubts that very much. “How many hours?”

There’s only half a closed eye and one eyebrow visible, and it furrows visibly in the long pause that follows. “Hm?”

“Christ, you weren’t kidding about messed up, were ya?”

Another twitch of the hand. “It’s good, I got it.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“Gonna sleep now.”

“You do that, mate.”

Liam waits there a second, considering his options, then makes to stand, intending to go tell the driver to come back to pick him up in the morning. He sure as hell can’t leave Noel here alone, doped up the way he is.

Technically he could, but he doesn’t really want to.

Someone has to remind him to take his pills, after all.

As he stands though, a bandaged hand clumsily snags his fingers, barely holding on. Liam looks back, where Noel still has his eyes closed.

“Hmm, you shouldn’t drive. Its..” There's a huge yawn, and Liam can barely understand him with how much he's mumbling, so he gets back down on his knees. ”…It’s pretty late,”

“It’s only gone 8.”

“Yeah, late, ‘s what I said.”

Liam grins. This really is amazing.

“You remember I can’t drive, right, Noely?”

“Yuh huh.”

“So I didn’t drive here.” Liam doesn’t even know why he’s arguing when he was planning on staying anyway. Noel's grip on his hand is sagging, so he gently puts the hand back down to where its barely grazing the floor.

No, he knows why.

Noels eyebrows furrow in irritation. “Obviously.”

“So why should I stay?”

“Cause it’s _late_.”

A sudden rush of guilt hits Liam, but he can’t help himself. He's pretty sure Noel's not going to remember any of this in the morning anyways. “Do _you_ want me to stay, Noel?”

The bandaged hand clumsily moves again, and Liam looks at it for a second and slides his own hand into it before Noel hurts himself. 

“Stay.” is all his brother says, as sincere as someone who’s exhausted and lost all tolerance to drugs can be. Something very warm fills Liam’s chest again, even as he feels a little guilty for exploiting the state his brother is in. He’s smiling though, as he settles for taking the couch throw and draping it over Noel, who instantly lets out a little sigh at the sudden warmth in the admittedly chilly room.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” He finds himself easily slipping into the voice he uses when he talks to his kids, thumb rubbing soothingly at the hand still clumsily slotted in his, feeling the warmth of the calloused fingers peeking out from under the textured gauze.

Noel cuddles into the blanket like a small child and finally falls asleep, eyelids noticeably red and throwing the bags under his eyes in stark contrast. Liam’s not sure how he hasn’t noticed how tired and worn his brother has looked lately.

He sticks around for a minute, holding the bandaged hand for his benefit as much as Noels, then makes a quick trip out to tell the driver to head on home for the night, ignoring the odd look he gives him. He locks up as best as he knows how, feeling oddly out of place in the house without Noel around. He hasn't spent much time in this new house of his, and feels like an intruder as he walks around the darkened rooms, fumbling around for light switches and making sure everything is locked up.

Eventually, he makes his way upstairs, peeking his head into different rooms until he finds Noels bedroom, and steals his alarm clock before making his way back downstairs.

* * *

He sets the alarm for six hours so can make sure Noel takes his pills, but ends up not needing it. It’s just gone past one and Liam is relaxing in the darkened living room in an armchair next to the couch Noel is sleeping on, softly messing about on an acoustic his brother had lying around. His brother's been sleeping peacefully since he dropped off, chest rising and falling steadily under the red couch throw, barely even moving. It's drugged sleep that looks so comfortable it has Liam almost drifting off too, hands going slack on the guitar, when there's a shuffle and a startled yelp as Noel falls off the couch.

Liam’s finger slip on the chord he’d been on in surprise, making a godawful screech as he jolts awake at the noise. His brother is groaning and sits up, gracelessly shaking off the blanket he’s still tangled in, face screwed up in pain and squinting hazily as he cradles his bandaged hand to his chest.

“Fuck me.” He mumbles.

Liam puts the guitar down and gets down on his knees in front of his brother, taking the hand and examining it for any signs of blood, and Noel lets him, not seeming surprised at all to see him still there. He’s still sleep warm, and blinks sleepily at the still white bandage, fingers rubbing at his eye.

“You alright?” Liam asks, noting the pained frown that's returned in the dim light leaking in from the kitchen.

Liam figures if Noel wasn’t exhausted and doped up, he would be embarrassed by now, but he just hums and tips over until his forehead is resting on the couch.

“Wait, stay up.” Liam reaches over and grabs the pills and water he’d had the foresight to put on the coffee table. It takes a few slow blinks for Noel to figure out what he’s supposed to be doing, but he manages, putting the glass back on the coffee table clumsily. It makes a loud clang that has Liam gritting his teeth as he imagines it shattering.

“ _Careful_.” He snaps, but quietly, still holding onto the injured hand. "Come ead, get back up."

Noel just cradles his hand back to his chest, eyes drooping closed again and furrowed brow still in place.

"Mmm. Need a min."

* * *

Noel’s not sure what planet he’s on at the minute. He knows the pills he’s just taken are going to knock him out well and good, which is fine by him, because he feels like he’s in the wrong dimension right now, one where he definitely should not exist.

Liam is there though, for some reason, which is nice. It’s soothing to have the warm presence in front of him, holding his stinging hand with a softness no one else expects from him, but one Noel knows is there and he only gets to see when the stars align just right.

His brother says something about getting up on the couch again, which is beyond Noel at the moment. He's so tired he can't see straight, and his head swims uncomfortably, and fuck does his hand still smart. He mumbles something about needing a minute through his dry mouth and takes his hand back carefully, shifting slowly so they're sitting shoulder to shoulder and he can curl up on his brother without his bare feet bumping into his legs.

Liam immediately throws an arm around him, and something soft and warm makes its way over him, and its fine for a minute until his hand keeps throbbing something awful and he can’t find a comfortable position for it. He fidgets uncomfortably.

There’s a soft sigh, and then he’s being moved until he’s lying on the floor. It’s better, and he lets out a relieved sigh when his hand is elevated on something soft. What is he lying on? It’s warm, and soft. He doesn’t get too much time to think about it, because his hand finally recedes to a tolerable level of sore, and a warm hand brushes soothingly through his hair, and he can hear his brother saying something unintelligible that just _sounds_ very comforting, and he drifts right off.

* * *

Liam wakes up with the sun the next morning, an awful crick in his neck as he raises his head from where he’d fallen asleep, tilted back on the couch. Noel’s still peacefully asleep on his thigh, looking like a whole new person in the morning light streaming through the closed curtains. His eyelids are noticeably less red and the godawful paleness is gone. Amazing what some actual rest can do.

Liam gingerly replaces his thigh with a cushion, debating picking his brother up and depositing him in bed, but he looks peaceful enough. He doesn't stir at all when Liam moves, so he settles for pulling the blanket up to his neck.

In the morning light, still sleepy, he feels even more out of place. He regards Noel on the floor for a bit, bandaged hand still a pristine white, resting comfortably on the the cushion he’d propped it up on last night, and figures he should be good to leave. He still hasn't stirred at all, and Liam really doesn't want to run into Noel's girlfriend, and if he's honest, he's hoping Noel doesn't really remember any of this and no one ever realizes that Liam had spent the night.

Even as he thinks it, he knows there’s no chance. He can see the evidence all over as he stops in between the living room and the kitchen, from the coffee table he'd pushed away to make sure Noel didn't bump into it sleeping on the floor, to the setup to make his brother comfortable, to the leftover takeout still on the counter. He considers cleaning all of it up, but it feels silly the minute he thinks about it. He hasn't really done anything wrong, he decides, tapping into the Liam Gallagher reserve of confidence, the one that lets him feel like he belongs wherever he is, regardless of what other people may think.

Satisfied, he peeks into the living room one more time, making sure Noel is still comfortable and tucked in, and goes to call his driver to come pick him up.

* * *

Noel ends up having to take the two weeks off. His doctor apparently takes one look at his hand and the state he's in, and makes him commit to resting up before he goes back to work. Andy's the one who speaks to him on the phone, and amusedly explains how distinctly unhappy Noel had been about the whole situation.

Liam doesn't really talk to his brother the whole two weeks, but hears from his mam a few days later that he's doing alright. She seems unfazed about the whole situation, so Liam figures Noel's downplayed the whole thing for her sake, so he doesn't offer up any more details either.

When Noel finally gets back into the studio, well rested and eyes clear and looking better than he has in a good month, the bandage around his hand is now just a small strip only covering his palm. 

They, of course, don’t mention anything about the whole thing, but when they see each other for the first time, there’s a very soft quirk to Noels mouth that Liam knows is mirrored on his own. It’s a moment no one else picks up on but them, even though they’re all right there, but it’s there. The split second burns into his memory right before he calls Noel a lazy bastard for leaving them to do all the work, and they all take the piss out of him as he rolls his eyes and shoots back some suitably cutting retorts, and life goes on.

**Author's Note:**

> This one really got away from me lmao, but I live for these two taking care of each other, so no regrets.


End file.
